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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29754267">Fear That You Can't Reverse</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/ralsbecket/pseuds/ralsbecket'>ralsbecket</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Bucky Barnes Bingo [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Marvel Cinematic Universe</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Bucky Barnes Goes to Therapy, Bucky Barnes Has PTSD, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Clint Barton Has PTSD, Comfort No Hurt, M/M, Nightmares, Past Mind Control, Platonic Cuddling, Pre-Slash, Scars, Song: Panic Room (Au/Ra)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 23:01:31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>921</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29754267</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/ralsbecket/pseuds/ralsbecket</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Bucky Barnes Flash Bingo (Card 1) - 02: Scars<br/>Trick-or-Treat Challenge - A4: Nightmares<br/>-<br/>Bucky considered Clint quietly, unafraid to look him directly in the eyes. There was a vulnerability in them that he’d never really seen before, an openness that he wanted to fall into.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>James "Bucky" Barnes/Clint Barton</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Bucky Barnes Bingo [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2085546</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>46</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>BBB Special Events, The Shatterdome's Trick-or-Treat Challenge</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Fear That You Can't Reverse</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dae/gifts">Dae</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>“There's no crying wolves now<br/>'Cause the truth has settled in<br/>Hiding under goose down<br/>For your nightmare to begin”<br/>- Au/Ra, <i>Panic Room</i></p><p> <br/>A/N: For Dae, sending all the love your way, my friend ^-^ (Also, this is my first time writing for Bucky/Clint so be gentle LOL)<br/> </p><p>Title: Fear That You Can't Reverse<br/>Collaborator: ralsbecket<br/>Card Number: 1<br/>Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29754267<br/>Square Filled: 02 - Scars<br/>Ship: Bucky Barnes/Clint Barton<br/>Rating: T<br/>Major Tags: Pre-Slash, Platonic Cuddling, Comfort no hurt, Scars, Bucky Barnes &amp; Clint Barton have PTSD<br/>Summary: Bucky considered Clint quietly, unafraid to look him directly in the eyes. There was a vulnerability in them that he’d never really seen before, an openness that he wanted to fall into.<br/>Word Count: 922</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“What did the fridge do to offend <em>you</em> today?”</p><p>    Bucky blinked a few times, eyes focusing again before they fell on Clint, who seemed to just appear at the end of the kitchen island. “What?” he squawked intelligently.</p><p>    Clint raised a questioning brow, prodding gently, “You were staring daggers at the thing, Barnes. Thought you were trying to activate some – I dunno – secret super-soldier powers, and then fire laser beams from your eyes.” He scoffed a laugh, making his way to the ice and water dispenser.</p><p>    “Well, I ain’t no Superman,” Bucky shot back, shifting to cup the mug of coffee between his hands. The ceramic was notably cold now, presumably just like the dark liquid within. He frowned a bit, wondering silently exactly how long he’d been zoned out.</p><p>    It had been happening more and more lately, especially after Bucky started going to his therapy sessions with the team’s counselor. They’d made a plan to unpack a lot of his repressed memories and past trauma, utilizing Tony’s new Bionicle Artificial – wait, no – Binarily Augmented Retroactive – fuck, whatever – the virtual reality thing that made people throw-up. There was still a lot of introspection and processing that Bucky needed to do, but it still didn’t help much when he would wake up in the middle of the night and –</p><p>    “Not to be sappy or anything, but you can talk to me too, ya know,” Clint offered, tipping his head back slightly to drink from his water bottle.</p><p>    Bucky narrowed his eyes slightly, asking, “What do you mean?” He watched as Clint sucked an ice cube past his lips, shifting it around his mouth thoughtfully, before loudly breaking it with his teeth. His eyes zeroed-in on the way Clint’s throat moved when he swallowed, and for the love of all things, Bucky hoped Clint wasn’t paying any attention to him.</p><p>    Clint licked his lips as he closed the lid of his bottle, leaning forward onto the counter with his hands splayed across the surface. He met Bucky’s gaze, steady and sure, before answering, “Dunno how much you know about the Battle of New York, but I wanna let you know that I get it. The whole…” He pressed his forefinger into his temple. “Mind control thing.”</p><p>    Bucky considered Clint quietly, unafraid to look him directly in the eyes. There was a vulnerability in them that he’d never really seen before, an openness that he wanted to fall into. “Sorry you went through that,” he told him sincerely.</p><p>    “Yeah. You too. It’s one thing to heal from physical scars, but those invisible ones…” A corner of Clint’s mouth quirked up. He reached forward to place a hand over Bucky’s mechanical one, patting it a couple of times. “Holler at me any time, man. I mean it.”</p><p>~*~*~*~</p><p>It was always the same things: Seeing soldiers bleed out from bullet wounds. Sniping his first enemy combatant between the eyes. Being strapped down to a table in Azzano. Falling to his death after the brief scrape of Steve’s gloves on his fingertips. Waking up in the middle of surgery on his arm. Freezing slowly, and then all at once.</p><p>    Shooting through Natasha to kill the target. Firing at JFK on his motorcade. Beating in Howard’s face. Suffocating Maria as she cried. Hearing each one of his other targets beg for their lives. God, he remembered all of them: <em>Please, I have a daughter. Help my wife. What did I do? I have his brains in my hands. Don’t do this. I don’t want to die. I’ll give you anything. Why are you hurting me? My wife, help my wife. Please. I don’t want to die. Help. Sergeant Barnes? What did I do?</em></p><p>
  <em>    What did I do? What did I do? What did I do? What did I –</em>
</p><p>    “…Bucky, wake – dammit, <em>wake up!</em>”</p><p>    He was cold. He was shaking. His blood was pumping too loud in his ears. The room was dark, but his door was – open? Light from the hallway was beaming across the floor and onto –</p><p>    “Hey, buddy, you’re okay. It’s just me.” Clint had a hand around his right wrist; firm, just to let him know he was there, not enough to hurt him. With the other hand, Clint started to brush his fingers against Bucky’s cheeks and –</p><p>    When had he started to cry?</p><p>    Bucky tried to find his voice, swallowing thickly. “I… I just… I don’t…”</p><p>    Clint’s hand tightened around his wrist, and Bucky automatically turned his hand to be able to wrap his fingers around Clint’s. Bucky focused on the pulse beneath his fingers, the steady pulse of his friend’s heart. It was enough to ground him, to calm him down.</p><p>    “Better?” Clint whispered, dipping his head in order to search Bucky’s eyes for an answer. Off of the super-soldier’s nod, he asked, “You good, or…?”</p><p>    Bucky blinked at him, hesitant. He shouldn’t ask. He <em>shouldn’t</em>.</p><p>    The words left his mouth before he could stop them: “Do you mind staying with me? Just – just until I’m out.”</p><p>    Clint answered with a nonjudgmental smile, squeezing Bucky’s wrist once before situating himself on top of the comforters. Bucky stiffened up slightly when Clint pressed close against his back, relaxing only when he registered the warm body heat seeping through the layers of clothing.</p><p>    Clint’s breath was warm on his neck, his lips just brushing against his skin, his arm draped loosely over Bucky’s shoulders. Bucky didn’t realize he’d fallen asleep until he awoke hours later, his night for the first time uninterrupted by new nightmares.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>
  <a href="https://linktr.ee/ralsbecket">Check out my linktree for tumblr, discord, and other socials!</a>
</p></blockquote></div></div>
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